Gallifrey on Earth is in South Park
by Erin A. Lasgalen
Summary: His Tardis would take his where he was needed, where he would be accepted. Everything was prepared, there was no need to panic. "It's Just another adventure," he raised his both hands like a conductor, grabbed the crimson levers and paused to take a deep breath. "For forever." And the time vortex devoured the tiny ship like a black hole.


"Here we go again," his monotone voice cut through the familiar hum of the engine as small fingers danced across the enormous touchscreen on the console of his BB7 (Bitchy Babe, as he had lovingly named her after all that weird-ass blue fire business on Betelgeuse). "This goes 45 degrees," he grunted and with one mighty heave, flopped up on the controls, one foot on the rather frail-looking ledge securing the haphazard wiring of the machine to reach the switch buttons secured at the top.The room swam dangerously, emitting a screeching sound.

Jumping down he glared at the stars littered across what was his makeshift ceiling ( he modeled that himself in sheer boredom, mind you, after agonizing 2 hours of work) as if they were to blame his unusually moody ( for a machine!) spaceship. The groaning and spinning stopped abruptly.

His glare loosened to a toothy grin. "That's better, Babe!"

He typed out another code on the left screen and smirked as indicators appeared on the main console in familiar Gallifreyan lettering.

He rubbed his chest where both his hearts ached for what he used to call home. It was time. Everything was prepared. His bestest girlfriend Babe would take care of the Time and Location, there was no need to worry. No need to stall.

"Just another adventure," he raised his both hands like a conductor, grabbed the crimson levers and paused to take a deep breath. "For forever."

And promptly bashed them both upwards with a echoing bang.

Sometime, maybe mere minutes or agonizing hours later, the usual screeching sound made its regular appearance, complete with the mini earthquake that followed in its wake. The occupant found himself sprawled on the floor, blinking at the artificial sky of Gallifrey. He grunted one last time and picked himself up from the floor with the grace and agility of a drunk earth-man with midlife crisis who just found out he'll never have grandkids because his only daughter wanted to be a nun.

"Right." He cracked his neck twice, checked his chest for both hearts, nodded in confirmation that yes, they were still there and waltzed to the door.

Anyone unfamiliar with Timelords and their shenanigans would freak out at the sheer weirdness of the situation that had occurred in the back alley of South Park Elementary, Colorado. This was how it had always been. First denial, then crazy talks, then explanations, some memory wipe...there was even a rumor about a renegade Timelord who liked to impress ladies, get them to helplessly fall in love with him, have hot make-out sessions with a stray boob grab ( because why not? Boobs were the best! ) and disappeared either in Time on the same planet or in a galaxy far far away.

Those were the rules.

Many worlds out there were still in their egotistical state, believing in some weird ass creators and only their existence in the whole universe!

Besides, it was a regulated fact even in fucking Gallifreyan textbooks that Earthlings, well, at least those primitive ones from from the original planet, hardly ever believed in anything unusual and always wrote it off for other things like coincidence, anxiety, too much coffee, too much sex…

And yet for some reason those three pre-teens that had just witnessed a portable toilet dropping down in the middle of an alley behind their school during recess from nowhere didn't even bat an eyelash. Ugly And Fat didn't even choke on his cheesy puff.

Secretly Suicidal Goth was actively trying to give himself a lobotomy with his fingers. That's not a typical response to aliens, according to his research of the big bad web that was understandably popular in this era. Hmm he would need to aim closer to the eye than the nose, preferably with a sharp needle.

The last but not the least, Slav Green Ushanka, was wary.

Smart.

He had even opened his mouth to say something when a bang that ripped the door of the toilet open silenced him. Three pairs of eyes with various degrees of interest followed the orange blob that waltzed out of the place with the confidence of Napoleon during the battle of Austerlitz. The blob halted right in front of them, throwing 'personal space' out of the metaphorical window.

So Done With This Shit actually stopped the impromptu brain damage and regarded the being, who by then was obviously another third grader like them, except, you know, wrapped excessively in an orange parka and a predisposition for portable toilets as his medium of transport.

The small nose twitched and gloved hands lowered the hood, revealing sunny blonde hair styled in the new trend of i-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-my-combs-are-broken, striking blue eyes gleaming with mirth, a flood of freckles across rosy cheeks and an obvious outline of a smile hidden beneath a hand knitted scarf.

"Hey!" he waved, voice muffled.

Holy Shit There's Red Hair Under The Ushanka gave him a critical once over that made his cheeks warm. "I'm Kenny!" he added in a smaller voice, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"Heh Kinny, do you sleep in that toilet?" cut Future Heart Attack with a sneer. He stomped over to the blonde, eyes gleaming. "Or did your mummy decide to du..- owww!"

He was a timelord for fucks sake, he was so not going to take trash talks in the first few minutes he landed! The punch felt really good. Maybe it was a bit overboard though as Fat And Crying dropped on the ground like a sack of Grithle droppings from the Orion Belt, hands covering his precious folds and crocodile tears in his eyes, mumbling something incoherent about balls and kicking and, uh, his mom?

Christmas Tree, however, was grinning from ear to ear.

What, did he pass a test or something? Had this planted always been this weird? Or did he just happen to stumble upon the nuttiest of nutters possible...

"I'm Kyle! And this is Stan. Dude that was awesome! If you didn't do it, I was sure as hell going to. Cartman's an ass."

Kenny grinned toothily, rolling along. "You mean a _fat.._ ass?"

Kyle's echoing laugh, Stan's sigh and 'I'm not fat, I'm big boned you stupid ass!' promised him the start of a beautiful friendship.


End file.
